The Princess and the Pea

by Jennifer on March 14, 2012

Tuesday, March 13th, 2012

I still feel it, at night, every time it happens. Something as round as a hill is beneath me and I toss and turn over it and around it, unignorably. It isn’t the same as having regular old repetitive night thoughts…I’ve pretty much done away with those. It’s specific. It carries meaning when it happens. It’s the pea.

And it doesn’t just happen at night either. Oh no. It happens often…the world is full of peas that even under a hundred mattresses I can feel, even when most people couldn’t. It comes of feeling so much, and it is one of the prices of awareness. But don’t get me wrong…every pea has a gift. But I haven’t gotten to that part of this story yet…

Maybe it is a misunderstanding, or an issue that requires sensitivity, or an unspoken truth…in any case it is something that doesn’t feel right, in too deep a way to brush off. I know by now, in fact have known for a very long time now that there is nothing to do with a pea but address it, head on. I can’t will it away, the only way to manage it is to climb down the towering ladder and wrestle around with my arms reaching awkwardly between mattresses until I find it, and pull it out. What that means outside of my very-real-feeling metaphor is that I have to get down to what feels wrong and make it right. I have to call the person who I need to say something to, or attend the meeting and bring up the important issue, or follow up on the email, or cancel the subscription, or salvage the project, or leave the group. I have to do whatever I can, culling the pearls from deep in my heart, to make it right.

Perhaps it sounds glamorous to be such a brave-seeming truth speaker, but let me tell you, with thousands of years’ experience, sometimes it is really, really hard to feel every pea, and very, very energetically demanding to constantly be putting things right (“right” not in some general way which cannot be defined, but right in accordance with my own heart to the best of my abilities.) I have been standing up and saying, “This isn’t right” when something feels wrong for so many ages now. Again, don’t get me wrong, it isn’t bleak…there is a good part and I still I haven’t gotten to that yet. And it is not like I have to put on my spiritual armor and fight with all the grit and will and sheer soul force of my deepest spirit, as I also have done in so many other lifetimes. It is more like I am suiting up in a uniform I’ve been putting on for a lifetime of getting under buildings to fix pipes. Not particularly glamorous seeming anymore, right? Not super sexy, though I suppose some might disagree. Just something I happen to be good at, and can’t freaking ignore. Trust me, I don’t think being good at something is enough of a reason to need to do it. I know it is time to do what brings us joy, and that that will be our greatest service again, as it once was. But until the world fully catches up with the new plan, this is as necessary as breathing to me. It’s literally physically unbearable for me to not address things that reach pea status. There just is no rug for me to sweep it under…only lots of wood floors and a whole ton of mattresses that don’t even blot it out a bit.

Those of you who know all about peas, and feeling so much all the time, are practically wiggling in your seats in agreement and relating so completely as you read this. And yes, now it is time for the good news. So, you lose friends who are tired of always being called on stuff, and you ruffle feathers and bring up uncomfortable topics. Yeah, you can’t go certain places where people are just too unconscious and it always feels like you are pointing out what others don’t want to see. Sleepless nights, heartache, and isolation? Yeah, some of all that too. But that isn’t all…

If you do it long enough, you sift your entire life down to people who celebrate you, surroundings that enhance and reflect you, projects that light you up, and standards that rock. And that, my friends, is the sign of a princess. After all, that was the point of the story…remember? Your sensitivity is testimony to your royalty. Your soul royalty. And while we all have these gifts at some level, those of us who are aware of them are blessed indeed, and anybody who makes you feel bad about that doesn’t belong in your life, and doesn’t deserve your company.

Because for every person that gets defensive and blows you out of their lives for being translucent and real and asking for the same, there is someone who will thank you, deeply, for caring enough to say what you really think and feel. If you haven’t found those people yet, you will. Hold on, and keep up the endless housekeeping of peas, grateful for the periods when they seem to go away for a while. Before you know it, you will have so many wonderful things filling the spaces emptied by what you had to let go of to be true to yourself.

For you might think that feeling all the peas, and dealing with all the peas, makes you quite a handful…a picky, neurotic, potentially annoying mess. But that is actually what happens to people who have a hundred peas under their mattresses that they don’t even know about, and practically never deal with. People who feel the peas and show up to address them are the people who don’t have to carry heavy burdens over long periods of time the same way, and are therefore more able to be light, and carefree, surprisingly easygoing, open-minded, and great fun. If you feel all the peas but that still doesn’t seem like you, read on…

Yes, the pea under all those mattresses was a test to find out if the woman who showed up that rainy night really was a princess as she claimed. (This goes for all you princes too!…Or if you identify as any other gender identity feel free to pick your own royal title.) And trust me, the kind of princess I am talking about is the kind you want to be. The kind who is in line to be queen of her own life and heart. The kind who knows herself, and honors herself, and lives in her true power. Not a harsh ruler, but a wildflower, growing where and as she was meant to…free. This is what it takes to be free. And freedom to be your true self is worth any price, and in the end costs you nothing.

There is one more little thing to remember though…one more thing that made the princess claim her throne. The next morning when she was asked how she slept, in some versions of the story she deliberated about whether to be polite and say she slept well or tell the truth, and unknowingly receive her kingdom…Tell the truth. There will always be moments when you choose to be polite because it isn’t worth the energy to expose what you really feel, but when that isn’t the case…tell the truth. Say the mattresses were terrible. Risk offending someone. Someone has freaking got to if this world is going to change. And more and more often you will find that your authenticity, your truth, your realness is something people thank you for. Something people ask for, and yearn for, and want to be around, and celebrate. We, the sensitive ones who also have the courage to speak up, will change the world. And when we have, we will get together in the break room for one last meal together and maybe a knowing smoke, thinking of the years we spent fixing pipes, and then take off our uniforms for the last time, and walk into the new day together…

I will see you then, and every day on the job until then, you Princess-Warrior-Oracle-Queen. For though I am describing a laborious workspace, the truth is this is the work of the stars. Fine, immaculate, and shimmering. This is the work of the Divine Feminine returning to the earth in all her fiery-dragon-tongued and sweet-honey blazing glory. It is time for the Oracles to speak again. About whatever they wish. About peas, and better times…about love and little things. About whatever lives in your heart.

Speak up Princess. I see your royalty. I’ll meet you in the sweet pea field where we will roll around on them and squish them everywhere and we will laugh…about it all…